Meant to Be
by Rainy Skye Rose
Summary: Charles can't explain the dreams he's been having. All of them revolve around the life of one boy: Erik Lensherr. For years, Charles dreams of Erik's life and grows to know him. What happens when one night, their paths cross? M later. Slightly AU.
1. Chapter 1

**Author note: So I was watching X-Men: First Class. It's AMAZING! And Charles and Erik are SOOOOO slashy. It's so obvious that all my friends were like "oh god. they're so slashy." Best 2+ hours of my life. So great. And if you pay attention, when Charles senses Erik on the ship, he practically swoons. Then he completely acts like he knows him entirely. It got me thinking, what if it was because they had a telepathic connection that let Charles see Erik's life as it's happening. It was awesome and I decided to write it. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: First Class or any of the characters. All I own is the idea and any original characters I introduce.**

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><p><strong>Charles POV<br>**

The boy screamed, attempting to escape from the soldiers holding him. The wool from his jacket irritated his skin and he could feel the imprints from the medals of valor the soldiers wore. His throat felt hoarse as he screamed and screamed. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how hard he screamed, the soldiers held on to him with their iron grip. His vision grew blurry as he started to tear up. But the image of his mother, tears mixed with grime sliding down her face, being carried further and further from him was permanently burned into the backs of his eyes.

His head was getting light, his vision going dark around the edges as he started to lose consciousness. He was drifting, his body going light. Then something within him clicked into place and he felt a part of him that he had never felt before come forth. It was a part of him that viewed survival as the most important thing. A part of him that had a desire to live. An almost animalistic side.

Then it was like something slammed into him. His anger peaked and his vision became red. He screamed all the more and didn't feel a thing even as the soldiers clung to him so tightly he would have bruises later. He just kept screaming; the part of his mind that wanted to survive was fighting anyone and everyone around him. He felt a twist in his guts as his ears filled with the screeching of metal bending. Then something slammed into the back of his head, causing a flash of white to fill his vision before he passed out.

Charles Xavier awoke in his bed, screaming. Images of his dream flashed before his mind. A young boy bearing a yellow Star of David on his chest, his light brown hair tasseled, blue eyes flashing like ice daggers as he thrashed against his captors. The woman who he recognized as the boy's mother being carried off in wave after wave of people trying to escape the Nazis. The boy's face streaked with tears as he screamed for her. Then the twisting of metal as the gates pulled towards the boy, magnetized towards him. He felt the nervousness of the prisoners, the curiosity of their destination, the hope that the promises of the Germans were true, the fear that the rumors of the concentration camps were true. The pride of the task the soldiers had been given, their hatred towards the prisoners for being abominations, the pleasure they took in destroying the imperfections. But worst of all, he felt the absolute terror and agony of the boy. The pure hatred and mind blowing pain as he was ripped from his mother and contained in the arms of the soldiers. Then he felt something snap within him as he lashed out, his desire to survive overpowering his conscious.

Charles didn't even realize he was crying until a tear streaked past his nose and hit his pillow. Sitting up in bed, Charles began to sob, his body feeling all the pain and suffering mixed with the pride and sense of justice. The fact that he felt that way about the deaths of thousands had him rushing to the bathroom. Dropping to his knees, he began to wretch all the contents of his stomach into the white porcelain toilet. When his stomach finally ran out, he began throwing up bile. Exhausted, Charles collapsed onto the tile floor. The cold seeped into his cheek and forehead. His throat was sore, which only reminded him more of the boy. Charles couldn't seem to get the image of the boy's face twisted up in agony out of his mind. His stomach heaved again and Charles got up again, dry heaving into the toilet. His whole body complained as spasms racked him, going up and down his spine. When the tremors subsided and he was finally confident the process was over, Charles got up and lay back in bed.

Just as he was beginning to drift back to sleep, Charles felt another presence in the house. Eyes flashing open, he pulled back the covers and slipped out of bed, grabbing the bat propped behind the door on his way out. As he walked the halls, Charles mind began processing. The presence didn't belong to anyone he had felt before. It was not anyone he knew. Walking into the kitchen, Charles saw a bright red dress sticking out from behind the open refrigerator. Her curled blonde hair styled back, my mother's image searched through the contents of the refrige.

"Mother," he called, lowering my bat, playing along out of curiosity. He wanted to know who this person was and how it was they could create such a perfect replica of his mother's persona. "What're you-? I thought you were a burglar," he said, walking towards the kitchen with a measured pace.

The thing shut the door in surprise, quickly gaining composure and slowly turning to face him with leveling eyes. If he did not know for a fact that this thing was not his mother, he might have believed she was, that was how perfect the replication was. It had gotten even the accent down to a T.

"I didn't mean to scare you, darling ," it said, resting its hand upon its hip as it smoothly replied, "I was just getting a snack." There it was, Charles thought. That word. His mother never, _never,_ called him darling or any other sort of endearment. "Go back to bed," it said. Charles stayed where he was, unable to move from the spot. If this wasn't his mother, then who was it? "What's the matter? Go on, back to bed," it said, it's voice hinted with panic as he didn't move. Leaning down, it looked at him with what it must have believed to be how his mother looked at him. It made him choke up. His mother had never looked at him with such love in his entire life. " I'll make you hot chocolate," it said, probably figuring that to be the motherly sort of thing to do in this instance.

"Who are you?" Charles asked. His head swiveled around to look at the wall where the only picture of him and his mother being seemingly docile hung. In that picture he was garnished in his Sunday best, and his mother was wearing the latest trend; an American design dress in red. The exact dress it was wearing now. Well, it seemed the thing could only copy what it saw. "And what have you done with my mother?" Charles asked, turning to face it again. Then he reached to its mind, speaking there instead of aloud. "My mother had never set foot in this kitchen in her life. And she certainly never made me a hot chocolate," Charles said, his throat choking up." Unless she can't order a maid to do it."

For a moment Charles thought it was going to fight, but then a look of resignation crossed its face. A ripple ran through its body, starting at its head and going down the spine all the way to the bottom. It was like watching a bird ruffle its feathers. One instant his mother was standing there, then a short, young, blue-skinned girl with slicked back red hair stood before him. "You're… not scared of me?" She asked, seeming to be trying to cover his rather exposed body. But Charles didn't feel in the least bit indecent as he openly stared at her in astonishment. It was amazing. He knew he couldn't be the only one, and here she was, living proof of this.

"I always knew I couldn't be the only one in the world," Charles breathed out, staring at her still. "The only one who was… different," he said, forcing himself not to say mutant. No matter how good-naturedly he said it, women, he found, took it rather offensively. " And here you are." Snapping back to reality, Charles realized just how rude he was being. He hadn't even introduced himself! He smiled and stuck his hand out. "Charles Xavier."

"Raven," she said, hesitantly taking his. Charles shook her hand, trying to send soothing messages through the gesture. He wanted to show this girl she was safe with him, she would always be safe with him.

Then he practically banged his head against the wall. She was rummaging through their refrigerator! The poor girl must be starving and here he stood, the idiot he was, shaking her hand. "You're hungry and alone," he said, releasing her hand. He gestured all around him with his hand. "Take whatever you want. We've got lots of food, you don't have to steal," he said, looking her in the eyes. And looking at her, realizing he wasn't alone, he thought of the boy from his dream. Erik. His name was Erik. And then he made up his mind. "In fact," he said, staring into her eyes but only seeing Erik's blue ones, "you never have to steal again."

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><p><strong>What do you think of the first chapter? Should I continue? Please read and review. If you do, I'll make the CharlesErik smut sooner!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Second chapter. Finally finished it. Got some time and decided to write it. I hope you like it. I don't know if it's as good as the first chapter, but I hope you enjoy it anyways. Here it goes! I kinda like the ending just cause it gives the contrast between the way Raven views things and Charles views things. Anyways... please enjoy my horrid attempt to be a good author. **

**Disclaimer: I don't own X- Men or X-Men First Class**

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><p>Erik awoke to see several men towering over him dressed in Nazi clothing. Eyes widening, he tried to push up, to get away. But he was restrained by something. Looking down, he realized he was strapped to a table, the cold metal digging into his bare back as leather straps encompassing his body restrained him. Thrashing more out of instinct than will, Erik knew it was over. He had no chance of escaping. He was helpless, a prison to the wills of the men standing over him. And he was a Jew. He knew no matter what they chose, it wasn't going to be good for him.<p>

The men over him grimaced as their attention snapped to him. One of them reached a large hand out and slammed his fist down into Erik's side, knocking the wind out of him and causing a rather unhealthy crunching sound. Choking, Erik desperately gasped for air, only to aspirate on his blood.

"Shut up you worthless swine!" the man shouted, raising his fist for another strike.

An arm shot out, quick as lightning, catching the other man's arm. It was a man dressed in a dark suit. His greased back black hair and pressed attire gave him a look of wealth. The imported gun from Britain proved he had authority. "Shaw wants him alive," he said, his voice fluid in comparison to the other's guttural German, "unharmed." The look he gave the soldier had the other man's face draining of color and his legs shaking in fear.

"Of course, sir," the Nazi said, staring up at the man in fear, "right away."

"That's a good little soldier," the man said, smirking as he released the other man's fist and ruffled his hair in a demeaning fashion. "Now," he said, brushing his hand against his pants like he'd touched something repulsing, "be a dear and leave us alone."

The soldier's face grew hesitant, "But sir," he said softly, his voice slightly cracking, "we were told to keep watch over the boy."

"Are you defying me soldier?" The man asked, raising an eyebrow at the Nazi threateningly. When the Nazi hurriedly shook his head in denial, the soldier straightened up to his full height, a good 6'3" and glared down at the man two heads shorter than him. "Then are you suggesting that I can't hold my own against a measly boy?" he asked, his voice laced with anger and disgust. Rapidly shaking his head back and forth in refutation, the soldier looked like he just wanted to die and get it over with. Instead, the man simply smiled down at him, relaxing his stance and patted him on the shoulder. "Glad we settled that," he said cheerfully. "Now leave us."

The soldiers fled the room as fast as humanly possible, tripping over one another in their haste.

When they were all gone and it was just the two of them in the room, the man let out a chuckle and turned to Erik. "Let's get you out of those chains _Metallmanipulierer_," he said gently, moving over to the table Erik lay on. Working the straps out of the clasps, he released Erik. As soon as the last restraint was off, Erik leapt off the table, dashing for the door. Slamming into it, he twisted the handle, trying to pry it open, but it held shut. Spinning around, Erik scrunched up, tensing his thin body up, trying to become as small as possible, readying himself to either fight or flee. But the other man simply smiled at him, held up both hands in surrender, and said, "Easy there _Metallmanipulierer_. I'm trying to help you."

Erki glared at the man, eyeing the pistol on his belt in suspicion. Following his gaze, the man chuckled. "This? You fear this _Metallmanipulierer_. It's useless against you," The man said as he slowly pulled the gun out and set it on the floor, straightening up to look at Erki again. "Come now _Metallmanipulierer_," he said, gesturing

"Understand this, Erik..." Shaw said as soon as Erik was ushered into the room for his third session. Shaw knew today was the day. The first two times had simply been to warm the boy up to him and explain what he wanted. Now the boy was going to deliver. One way or another. "These Nazis. I'm not like them." Pausing, Shaw looked towards Erik and saw the skepticism. Choosing to change the subject before he lost the boy completely, Shaw said, "Genes are the key, yes? But their goals? Blue eyes? Blond hair? Pathetic." Staring at Erik as if the boy was to understand and completely agree with him, Shaw was surprised at the blank look on the boy's face. Trying to relate to his inner child, "Eat the chocolate. It's good," he said, taking a bite, trying to tantalize the boy into saying something. "Want some?" **"**I want to see my mama," the boy responded resolutely. The sentence was short, but underneath his words was a strength that said he wasn't going to cooperate till he got what he wanted.

Sighing, Shaw wondered why they all had to be so whiney. It was always 'I want to see my mom.' 'I'm hungry.' 'I hate you because you killed my parents and tried to use me in your insane experiments.' These people couldn't look past it all and see that what he was offering them was greater than their petty wishes. "Genes are the key to the door leading into a new era, Erik," he said, getting to his point since he saw no way to soften the boy up. "A new future for humanity. Evolution." At the confused look on Erik's face at the word, Shaw wanted to groan. Hadn't this boy been educated? "You know what I mean? I'm not asking for much. A small coin, it's nothing compared to the huge gates. Isn't that right?"

Erik knew what Shaw was hinting at. The man had slowly been building an idea in his mind. An idea about mutants and supremacy and an advanced race in which he would be royalty. All he needed to do to secure a spot for him and his family was to move this coin. Eyebrows scrunching in concentration, Erik tried to find the spot in his mind he had felt all those days before. Feeling nothing, he raised his hands, hoping that it would help someway. After a minute of trying, Erik gave up, feeling the tension of a future headache coming through. "I've tried, sorry Doctor. I cannot...I do not...it is impossible," he said, struggling to find words to express how disappointed he was. He wanted nothing more than to do what the man wanted. He wanted a good life for himself and his mother and father. A life where they didn't have to scavenge and flee the Nazis just to survive. A life where they were the ones people cringed away from. A life of power.

Shaw sighed. He didn't want to do this. His guard had grown to like Erik and he knew doing this wasn't going to get him points with his already rebellious soldier. And the man was so talented he didn't want to go through the hassle of finding someone only half as good as him to replace the man. But Erik was giving him no choice. He needed results and he needed them now. "The only thing I can say in favor of the Nazis is that their methods are producing results," He paused here, looking at the boy before him. He was so small, so fragile. They would have to fix that. "I'm sorry, Erik."

Shaw called the soldiers stationed outside to bring their secret weapon in. Erik's face lit up when his mother walked in. They ran to each other, embracing for the brief moment they could. Then when the soldiers dragged them apart, Erik's fingers twitched as he tried to keep from reaching for her. "Now this is what we will do," Shaw said. "I count to three, and you move the coin. If you do not move the coin, I'll pull the trigger. Do you understand?"

Erik's arms reached out and his face screwed together as he concentrated as hard as he could. He felt strength flood through him. He wanted this so much. He wanted more than anything to show his mother what he could do and make her life so much easier. **"**One." Panic flooded through him as nothing happened. "Mama!" he explained, praying she had the answers to make his power work. **"**You can do it," his mother said, trying to send him her love even though she knew she was going to die.

Erik turned back to the coin, pulling at all the power within him towards his purpose.

**"**Two."

Instinctively looking at his mother, her face looked drawn and resigned. "It's alright. It's alright. It's alright!"

Erik pulled and pulled, sensing something in the center or his mind that he couldn't seem to reach no matter how he tried. He pulled at it but it seemed to slip from his grasp.

**"**Three." **Bang!**

The shot rang through the room. Silence followed. Erik felt his stomach drop and a lump form in his throat as he stared straight ahead, the coin left unforgotten. It was several moments before he regained control of his limbs and slowly, very slowly he turned his head. The sight he met made his body feel like it was weighed down by lead. His mother lay in a pile, her lims unnaturally spread out across the floor and scarlet blood seeped from the gunshot in her chest. Her clothes, the clothes she had worn since they had been put in the ghettos, was ragged and stained. She was slowly losing the color of life: the soft pink in her cheeks, the gold tint to her face, and her warm, loving eyes.

Then the screams started ripping from his throat. The power he couldn't seem to grasp before came rushing at him in waves. Wherever he turned, all the metal would bend and twist. They screamed with him as they morphed to become twisted and broken just like Erik. They snapped as his control snapped and they matched his anguished screams one by one. By the end of his rampage, Erik had destroyed all the metal in the room and the room adjacent to it. Standing there panting, Erik felt the fire die in him leaving behind a deep sense of numbness and hatred. Hatred towards the Nazis for tearing his life at its seams, hatred at Shaw for killing his mother, and hatred towards everyone else for not saving him.

"Unbelievable, Erik," Shaw said, walking up behind him to place his hand on his shoulder. "We have opened your gift with anger. Anger and pain. You and I are going to have a lot of fun."

Erik couldn't bring himself to look at the man. He wanted nothing more than to drive the metal rod lying next to him straight through the other man's eye, but he held back. No, Shaw would die later. He would let Shaw believe he had his personal soldier. He would stay and learn all the other man had to offer him, grow as powerful as he could, then show the world that Erik Lensherr wasn't going to take shit from anyone any longer. That he was the one with the power. That he was superior to them all.

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><p>Charles gasped, sobbing as his eyes refocused.<p>

"Oh thank God, Charles," Raven said, hovering over him in her blonde girl form. "I thought we lost you."

Charles, having never heard Raven say such a thing since his first attack with her in the room, was immediately worried. "How long have I been out?" he asked, his fear imminent. The longest he'd been under while still conscious was an hour. Four when he was sleeping.

"Six," Raven said as she fluttered around him, trying to check his temperature and vitals. Charles didn't even bother trying to swat her off. He was just sitting there, shocked, as her words sunk in. _Six hours. _This dreaming had continued every night and at least twice a week during the day ever since that first one two years before, yet Raven always acted as if he were going to never come back. But _six hours_. He had never even spent that long while dreaming.

"It was bad," Charles finally forced out, "the dream I mean. Almost as bad as the first one. I forgot how bad those felt until now," Charles said, pressing a hand against his heart as he felt it start tearing to shreds. He had watched Erik for two years; watched as he was forced into training camp after training camp where people would dissect his mind with their questions and push his body to its limits. He watched as Erik was starved and beaten within inches of his life. But none of the pain or the agony he had felt during those dreams could come close to these ones. These ones cut deeper than the sting of physical beatings. He had literally felt Erik's mind twisting and breaking and becoming deformed as his hate burned deeper and deeper. And Charles could feel part of it within himself. The part of him that had always held disdain towards his mother for her constant absence in his life simply because he was different had turned into loathing. He could feel dark energy within his mind, finding purchase in every negative thought he had every had. And he didn't like it.

"You need to tell someone, Charles," Raven said. When Charles looked at her in complete horror, she waved her arms around as she tried to ammend her statement. "I'm jsut saying that perhaps they could help you break this link. It can't be healthy. I say you should tell the doctor about this. He'll know a way to fix it."

Anger swelled within Charles at her word. A life without the link was pointless. He had grown so dependent upon the constant access to another mind so like his, so similar in all ways that mattered and in many ways that didn't. He needed Erik. He had come to know the boy, come to know his life, his struggles, his thoughts, his dreams. They fueled him to do all that he did. To aim to become a professor to guide those like them so that they would never have to endure what Erik had. To make a difference. To fix the world so that Erik could stop hating everyone and just live his life the way he wanted. And he wanted to be a part of that life. "If you ever suggest that again," Charles said, his voice grim and his eyes harsh, "I will throw you back out on the streets. Am I clear?"

Raven flinched from his look, scared. Charles had never looked at her like that. It was Erik. He always made Charles bad. He wasn't a good influence, and Raven would do anything to keep them from ever growing closer than they were. Because she loved Charles and didn't want to see him get hurt.

And this Erik Lensherr was nothing but a road of pain and suffering.

Charles hated hurting Raven, but she had no right. She should have never spoken about the link like that. It wasn't bad for him. It saved him. And he would never break it, because in his heart he wanted, more than anything else, to meet Erik.

Because Erik Lensherr was the only person who would ever understand.

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><p><strong>So... did you like it? Please review! -hides from any fruit chucking-<strong>


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: So from this part in the story, I'm going to be making it somewhat AU. Because, if you know the story well, there's a huge gap in time between the beginning and when we see them next. One minute they're children and the next they're in college and killing people. So from now till that point, the story will consist of what is in my mind. I hope you read this before the story so that you do know this and proceed with caution. Thank you for reading this all who do. I hope you enjoy the story. Sorry for the long wait, but I didn't know if I should write these linking chapters or just skip to the next part in the movie, but I wanted to write them. I'm very sorry if I lose some readers because of this choice, but all who remain loyal, thank you. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: First Class or anything related to the X-Men story-verse. I do not own any characters but the ones I create.**

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><p>Erik landed with a light thud against the floor, panting heavily, crouched and ready to spring back into action at any moment. His skin was covered with a thick layer of sweat, his clothes, a thin white dress shirt unbuttoned and black dress pants, were soaked in a mixture of sweat, blood, and dirt. There were tears in them and his blood oozed out of several minor cuts littered along his body. His shoes were covered in dust and blood and he balanced on the balls of his feet.<p>

"Come now _Metallmanipulierer_," a soldier dressed in a pristine, pressed black suit called from 10 feet away. He wiped the blood off his katana with a white handkerchief. "Surely that's not all you can do?" he asked tauntingly, his smooth, deep voice gentle and coaxing.

Taking a deep breath, Erik pulled the dagger out of its sheath attached to his hip and pounced. He smoothly landed a few feet away from the soldier and broke into a brisk sprint towards the other man who, upon seeing him advance, smiled and placed his handkerchief back in his pocket. He stood there, the hilt of his blade held loosely and the tip touching the ground, watching the young boy advancing upon him. His footsteps were sloppy with exhaustion and he was panting hard as he ran, dagger gripped tightly in his right. He saw the tensing of his right before the boy flung himself to the soldier's left and swiped at him with the blade.

Sidestepping easily, the soldier frowned at the other. His movements were sluggish and lacked control. He sheathed his sword and the boy's face twisted in anger as he landed. The man shook his head in disappointment and the boy's face fell, ashamed of his inability to meet his mentor's expectations. Walking over to him, the man reached his hand out and ruffled the young one's hair.

Looking up in surprise, Erik couldn't keep his surprise off his face when he saw the man down at him fondly. Day one and Erik had just failed his first lesson, but the man stood there, playfully ruffling his hair and looking at him proudly.

"Very good _Metallmanipulierer_," the man said, his deep voice light. He looked down at his student. His chocolate eyes twinkled in merriment as he looked down at his student, drenched from all the effort he had just exerted. The corner of his mouth was turned up in a smile, his cheek bleeding slightly from Erik's well-aimed swipe. Not many men could have landed a blow on him and on the very first day of their training, Erik had shown a promise he had not seen in years. He had skillfully applied all his past lessons at the training camps into this fight and the soldier couldn't help but smile at what the boy could be under his guidance.

Erik was so confused. "But I lost sir," he said, his head falling again, staring sadly at the soldier's shoes. He felt shame when the simple movement sent a wave of pain through him.

The soldier rolled his eyes, getting down and sitting next to the boy in agura. He used his fingers to pull the young boy's shin up to look at him. "But you fought valiantly," he said, pointing to the deep cut on his cheek. When he say the boy's skeptical look he added, "You mustn't be too hard on yourself _Mettallsaurferei_. It is but your first lesson. To land a blow on me at such an early stage is commendable. Do not worry yourself; it will take time to learn the art of combat. But I promise that as long as I am with you I shall teach you what I know."

"Thank you sir," Erik said with respect. He knew how skilled the man was at what he did and he knew that it was an honor to train under him. To get a compliment from such a master made him smile slightly.

The soldier openly smiled at the slight raise in the corners of the boy's mouth. Though it was feeble, the man knew any sort of reaction from the boy was marvelous. His smiled dimmed as he thought about what the boy would have to endure under Shaw's guidance. He wanted to protect the boy. He had grown fond of him, for reasons which he did not know. Perhaps it was because he had always wanted a son. But he vowed he would make it as bearable as possible for the boy. He could do that much for him. "Please, don't call me sir. It sounds too proper," he said, smiling at the boy.

Erik paused. "Then, what do I call you?" he asked quietly.

"Whatever you want, _Metallmanipulierer_," he said softly. No one actually knew his name, instead opting for one of the many names he had been given on the battlefield. And if he was honest, he couldn't remember it himself. The memories of his old life had long ago been buried in the bodies of his enemies and drown in the blood of innocents.

Erik paused for a moment, thinking about what the man was to him. He was a new beginning, a mentor in his future life. But _Lehrer_ seemed to common for this man. This man was strong and he was going to train Erik to be just as strong. They would become the strongest team the world had ever seen. He needed a name that accented his power. "How about _Mannschaft?" Erik asked hesitantly. _

The soldier thought about it for a moment. _Team_ he thought. Smiling at the intimacy this name held compared to all the many others, the soldier looked at Erik, feeling a wave of paternal affection wash over him. "Sound perfect,_ Metallmanipulierer."_

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><p><strong><em>So I know this chapter was super short and lacks Charles to it, but I wanted to focus on the bond that's going to form between these two. I created this character and I purposefully left the description of him vague just cause I wanted to leave some room for interpretation until later in the story. Anyways, next chapter's already half written and waiting to be posted. I will post when I get some reviews that make me want to post. <em>**


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note: wow... I GOT 6 REVIEWS! THAT MADE ME SO HAPPY! So happy in fact, that I updated this story before I began to write my other story. I had some issues with the start and my mother kept yelling at me to get off the computer while I wrote this. Anyways, hope you enjoy this chapter. I rather liked it. And I love Ms. Anna. I don't like the way she started, but it was necessary. And I'm sorry if you don't like some of the stuff I wrote in this and some of the stuff Charles does in the dream, but too bad, this is my story. I would personally hate to lose anyone as a reader simply because of one of my choices, but I personally think everything I did this chapter is perfect for the way I want this story to go. So I understand if I get some flames, and though I will not appreciate them, I will not blame you for them. Anyways, thank you very much for taking the time to read my story. I hope you enjoy.  
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**Disclaimer: **I do not own X-Men: First Class or anything related to the X-Men story-verse. I do not own any characters but the ones I create.**  
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><p>"Again," the woman shouted, anger evident in her voice as she cracked the ruler on the table, inches from the young boy's fingers. Charles resisted his desire to pull them away because he knew it would simply give her reason to hit him. No man should fear pain, she always said. And he did not want to upset her. Despite being a woman, Ms. Anna was one of the top scholars of the modern age. That she was working as his tutor spoke more of the sexism of the modern age than any movement could. This woman's mind was just as good as any other scholar of this age and she had a tongue sharper than a lawyer. She was not to be messed with.<p>

Charles picked the book, _The Advanced Study of the Human Body,_ up again, carefully trying to read the words fluidly and confidently as Ms. Anna instructed. He found himself stumble on the same word as before, some technical term that was Latin in origin and no matter how Charles tried, he couldn't seem to get the second and third syllable to combine. He heard the _click clack _of Ms. Anna's and the rhythmic tapping of the ruler against her palm cease and knew she had had enough with his errors. "Do you think this is a joke?" she asked pointedly, Charles' eyes automatically seeking her face out. What he saw astonished him. Ms. Anna's always blank face looked shadowed. Her eyes lacked any emotion other than a deep look of exhaustion. Her hair was pulled back from her face as per usual, but several strands had escaped, jutting out in different directions giving her an unkempt sort of look. She looked years older and Charles knew he was seeing the effect the war had left on her after her son had been taken in a bombing.

"I'm sorry ma'am?" he asked slowly, too shocked to say anything else.

The look remained on Ms. Anna's face, but her eyes seemed to gain their fire back. "Do you think this is all a game? That it's funny for you to be sitting here, slacking off in your lessons while people out there are _dying_. While people are suffocated and burned to death. Tortured until they beg and scream to die?" she asked, her eyes gaining a haunted look and she seemed to lose sense of time, going somewhere deep within the recesses of her mind. "Bleeding as iron buries itself deep in their bodies, having been shot with the hate and intention to kill those others felt when they pulled the trigger. To cry yourself to sleep every night because you just want to die and it all to end, to finally be with those you love but have lost—"

"Ms. Anna…?" Charles asked, worried about the way his teacher looked.

His words fell on deaf ears. "—But you know there is no hope, because tomorrow all of the pain and agony is simply going to begin again. And the people who deal the blows laugh at you, mock you, degrade you, make you into an animal. All the while with a smile on their face. Your suffering delights them; they live to see you break and become something worse than human. Then, and only then, do they kill you like the animal you have become—"

"Ms. Anna!" Charles shouted, grabbing his teacher by the shoulders and shaking her. He felt a deep stabbing pain within him with each word she said and the image of Erik the day before, covered in blood and sweat after he was ruthlessly beaten by one of his trainers kept flashing in his mind. How he hadn't been able to even walk because the flesh on his legs had been torn into with a whip so many times that there was hardly any skin left unmarred. Charles felt the sense of fear again as he wondered what would have happened had his mentor not walked in at that moment and slammed the trainer into the wall, stabbing him through the hand and leaving him there, knife embedded in his palm and pinned him to the wall. "Ms. Anna, please, please stop," he choked out. He shakily begged the woman in his arms to stop, tears streaming down his face as the image of Erik being carried down the hall in the arms of his seething mentor burned into his mind. "Please, just stop," he choked out before he passed out.

Charles awoke in a room he knew better than any other. He had spent many day in here over the past two years, looking around as he paced. His eyes were magnetically drawn to the young boy lying on the only bed in the room. A gasp escaped his lips before he could help it.

Erik's face was drawn and pale, covered in sweat. His brown hair was matted and darker in spots where his blood had dried. The strands looked like black ink in contrast with his white skin. He was dressed in a light hospital dress and covered from his forearms down by a thick wool blanket. Even from here Charles could see Erik was shivering. Walking over, Charles was grateful he had discovered his ability to move objects in these dreams, though only if Erik was touching the item too. Which meant no matter how he tried, Charles couldn't lift anything, even in the physical world. So Charles lifted the blanket up, instantly dropping it back down as a sound of pure astonishment forced itself from his convulsing throat. But it was too late. The image was already seared into Charles brain.

He hadn't looked _that_ bad yesterday, Charles thought in shock. _But he was covered entirely with blood_, the voice within him said, _and you were too busy trying to lift that knife out and stab the trainer. _Shut up, Charles shouted back, hand slowly reaching out and lifting the blanket painstakingly slow. Each inch that became exposed was horrific; the flesh was torn and jagged, crisscross patterns all over Erik's body where the whip had broken through the skin and tore into the muscles underneath. The wounds looked red and angry and the meat beneath it glowed blood red. At least the bleeding's stopped, Charles thought and none look like they're going to fester. They seemed to have administered some sort of antiseptic.

Erik shifted slightly and let out a quick exhale of pain. Charles' attention was drawn from the bloody carnage of the boy's legs to his face. Erik's eyes stared blindly up, open but unseeing. He's dreaming, Charles thought, moving up to Erik's side. Then the boy let out a broken sob and his arms came up, searching for something that wasn't there. His eyes remained fixed on the ceiling, clouded with sleep, but the fear within them was evident. Charles didn't know what was coming over him, Erik couldn't feel him, but Charles instinctively reached a hand out for the other boy's hand, curling their fingers together. For a moment, Charles thought his hand was simply going to pass right through the other boy's hand, but then Erik did something bizarre. His fingers curled around Charles', and he pulled both their hands down to his cheek. Charles didn't know how he did it, just that Erik was holding his hand as though it were really there and he could feel it. And his stomach was doing an odd sort of tap dance because of that. Trying to pull his arm away, Charles could feel Erik squeeze his hand tighter, pulling it closer to him and pulling Charles himself closer. At the same time, Erik lifted his other arm and pressed the palm of it against Charles' cheek which had stooped when the other boy had tugged him.

Eyes widening, Charles froze under the touch. It was all too intimate, all too real. He could feel Erik's hand, his warm skin pressed against his own, the points where their skin met heating up to a level that was both pleasant and painful. Then he relaxed into the touch, because Erik's eyes were staring into his and though he could see the other boy was asleep, there was something in his eyes that made him look… awake. And there was something else in the look that he couldn't place, but it made the strange dance in his stomach speed up even more. He was aware his heart was hammering within his chest, the sound almost deafening. But he could feel Erik's heart beating too, the tempo matching his. He felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed in time with Charles and it made his head spin and his knees go weak.

Then the moment was ruined as the door to the infirmary slammed open. Charles' eyes shot to the door guiltily before returning to Erik's. Stepping away from Erik's hand, Charles pulled his arm, trying to free it from Erik's grasp. But Erik held on tighter and Charles felt himself getting desperate. The whole scene had shifted in a second and all Charles could think was that he had to get out of here, had to get away from this place. Had to get away from Erik. His eyes met with Erik's one last time and he could see the sleep starting to leave the boy, his eyes becoming less clouded but also losing that strange look of awaking from before. Right then, he saw Erik's lips move, his voice but a whisper.

"Please don't go."

And then Charles ripped his hand out of Erik's, the other boy trying to grab him back, but it was futile. As soon as the physical contact was broken, Charles felt as if he had been thrown into cold water and when he resurfaced he was back in his body, in the room he had been having his lessons in before. He was drenched and a worried looking Ms. Anna looked down at him.

That's when the tears came.

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><p><strong>Whatever you're thinking, leave it in a lovely thing called a review<strong>


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: Hello everybody! I'm so excited/anxious/nervous/happy to present the next chapter of Meant to Be. Now I know it's been a LONG time since I updated and everything and I'm extremely sorry, but well as we all know life can be a biotch. It just has a way of fudging everything up as soon as it starts going right. And well, I won't bore any of you with my sob stories. And well, if it interests any of you, you can ask me what's been happening in life lately that made me write this chapter the way I did. My backstory will really make this whole twist in this chapter clearer. And I know some of you are going to hate me at the end of this chapter simply cause you aren't going to like the direction this chapter is going, but I assure you this chapter is just overly girly and feeling-y because I am writing this during my period and during a VERY stressful time in my life. So I used this to vent. But I will promise that the girliness should not carry on into the next chapter. I hope… **

**Disclaimer: I don't own X-Men: First Class or anything related to the X-Men verse. I simply own all the side characters whom I have come to love and adore so much.**

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><p>Erik was dreaming. Well, more like he was paralyzed by the pain in his body and thus his mind was wandering. He had done it again; he had back talked his trainer. But he just couldn't stop himself, the trainer had insulted <em>Mannschaft<em>, calling him scum and saying he was going soft, mentoring such a weak, untalented boy. And of course the comment on his uselessness had simply slid over his head because he knew he was useless in his training and was disgusted in his inability to meet everyone's standards, especially _Mannschaft_'s. No, those comments didn't matter. But no one insulted _Mannschaft_. No one.

_Mannschaft_ was the fatherly figure Erik had always wanted. He was brave and strong, but kind and compassionate towards Erik. Erik always felt respected when being talked to, as if he were his equal, but he knew how to make Erik feel horrible when he failed or was reprimanded. But he did something that Erik's own father hadn't done' he loved Erik. He treated Erik as he would his own son. Sure he bloodied Erik up in and hour more than any of his trainers did in a whole day, but Erik knew for a fact that _Mannschaft_ would pace up and down the floor outside the infirmary until the nurses told him Erik was stable. The man had officially been banned from inside the infirmary when last time he had decided, in a mixture of boredom and worry, to mix all the vials the nurses had painstakingly sorted. It had taken them a week to rearrange them all. At that _Mannschaft_ had laughed and said, "If they had let me stay for five more minutes, I could have resorted them all." When Erik asked why he hadn't just stayed there since there was no way for the nurses to make him leave if he really wanted to stay, _Mannschaft_ replied in a grave voice, "Have you ever tried to face Head Nurse Jane when she's cross? And armed with a very large needle? Geez, I hate needles" and laughed, his deep baritone comforting to Erik.

Erik's mind stopped with the pleasant memories and went back to replaying yesterday, the little voice of reason within his head, which had a British accent for some reason, pointing out how foolish he had been. In a way he had been lucky to get away alive.

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><p>"You're weak! You can't even do this much, you worthless swine?" his trainer screamed in frustration, bringing his walking stick, which seemed to be used more for beating Erik up than for aiding him in walking, down hard across Erik's leg. Erik bit his lip hard to keep himself from whimpering; the sound only infuriated the man that much more. "You are a waste of time and energy. I don't know what Shaw sees in you, you worthless piece of shite. If it were up to me, I would have dropped your sorry arse off at some concentration camp where they would treat you as you deserve." Throwing a kick at hius ribs, the trainer smirked at the thud produced as his foot met Erik's side. This time the whine of pain made its way out of his throat,. Freezing, Erik's body tensed, watiting for another blow as punishment, but instead Trainer Fredrik just sighed and started walking away. What he said next sounded as if it were meant for him alone. "To think the great Shadow Dancer has fallen so far. His name alone could stop armies in their tracks. Now he's reduced himself to the mentor of garbage. Oh how the mighty fall. Now he couldn't even scare a beggar away. How pathetic," he spat.<p>

Erik had sometime during this tirade began to breath heavily. The pain in his body numbed as he felt his rage pile up within him, growing higher and higher like a massive wave. He grit his teeth together, letting the power build up even more. His body became hypersensitive to his surroundings. Every piece of metal in the tent beside him and the training ground began to hum, sensing the power emanating from the boy. Finally, the dam broke and the waves of power rolling off the boy were practically visible. Every shard of metal in the room went soaring, uprooting themselves easily and sailing through the air towards the man who, having heard the screeching of metal, had turned around. Eyes widening as hundreds of sharp metal pieces flew towards him, he twisted on the spot, disappearing just as the metal skewered the ground where he was standing. Erik collapsed to all fours, his hands and knees hitting the ground. He felt weak and his head spun violently. Stomach convulsing, Erik committed sporadically. His body convulsed his muscles spasming as he dry heaved. A presence to his side became known a second before the cane slammed against his side. His shaking limbs gave in to the blow and Erik collapsed into his own vomit. The cane rained down again and again, shots of pain running up his spine each time the walking stick made contact. Each new lash was as painful and vivid as the first. The blows rained down with no sign of slowing down or stopping. In fact, they seemed to grow in intensity as it went on. Erik was aware he was screaming and choking on his own vomit with each gasp, but all his mind was focused on was the all-consuming burning, the pain, the agony, the tearing of his flesh. This was by far the worst beating he had ever had. His mind begged for it to end as screams tore out of his body, coming out gurgled as he choked. His insides burned white hot, matching the feeling of destruction being wrought upon his body. Then something happened that only part of his mind registered, storing in his memory for later. As it was, he felt a cooling presence to his right, the voice of reason from within him screaming at him to get up, to fight back. The voice's British accent contrasted with Erik's guttural, German screams and the strings of profanity his trainer spat out in a combination of Polish and German. Then the voice was _outside_ of his head, coming from the presence to his right. But the words he shouted resonated in his mind even as the voice said them aloud.

"Erik! Erik! Can you hear me?" There was a pause for a moment before he continued, his voice burning with anger and Erik can hear the cracks in his words as he sobbed. "I _know _you can hear me! Get up Erik! Get up! Don't just lie here and let him do this! Fight back! Fight Erik! Get up and fight!"

Erik felt the next lash worse than any of the others. The strike destroyed all hopes of doing anything but lie still. Erik couldn't find it within himself to move, to fight as the voice demanded of him. All he could do was lie there and beg for it all to end, for him to finally bleed out or be struck so hard his ribs cracked and punctured his lungs, causing him to suffocate to death; anything as long as the pain stopped.

There was a sob coming from the presence on his right. It sounded broken as it hitched in his throat. "Erik… please… Hold on. Please. Help is coming. Just hold on for a few more minutes. Please…" it sobbed. He could feel wet droplets fall on his skin. His voice was crying for him. Later he would be confused why he had felt those tears, but at the moment all he could feel was safe. He knew it was stupid; the voice was but a part of him that kept him sane most of the time, but he couldn't help but think of it as a separate being, a being that watched over him, protected him. He was Erik's own _Schutzengel_. And if he said that help was coming, Erik believed him. And he was going to hold on as long as possible.

His body was starting to go numb, which worried Erik. He knew his blood levels were rapidly decreasing and as horrible as the mind blowing pain was, the numbness was worse. It meant that his body was shutting down: the human body could only take so much abuse before it simply gave in. He was reaching his breaking point and he didn't know how much longer he could last. He knew his blood levels were rapidly decreasing and as horrible as the mind blowing pain was, the numbness was worse. It meant that his body was shutting down: the human body could only take so much abuse before it simply gave in. He was reaching his breaking point and he didn't know how much longer he could last. But the voice seemed to know exactly what he was thinking as soon as he thought it and began chanting words of encouragement that dispelled any doubts Erik had before they had a chance to take root. The words gave the terrible moments of simply waiting; lying there as the life bled out of him in hopes of some cavalry he couldn't be sure was going to come, purpose.

"Just a little bit longer Erik… Hold on… hold on…" The voice whispered gently. As he did, Erik grit his teeth just to keep some sort of feeling in his body and keep the numbness from luring him away. It helped that the voice kept whispering soothing words in his ear, telling him how he was doing great, how he was so strong, how he only had a few moments more before it would be over and he would be safe.

And when the door burst open, Erik couldn't stop himself from letting out a sigh of relief at the sight of _Mannschaft_ at the door, his face the sight of pure, unrestrained anger. And it was all directed at Trainer Fredrik. The beatings stopped a moment later as Fredrik caught sight of the bomb sitting in his doorway. Then he let out a sound of pure terror and wicked glee washed over Erik. The voice had stopped speaking to him as soon as the door opened, instead shouting at everyone else in the room. Which, in Erik's opinion, was fine, because he wouldn't have heard a word the voice was saying anyways. All that was going through his mind now that the endorphins thrummed through his veins, hiding any pain he would feel later, was a deep sense of accomplishment. "I made it; I'll be safe now. _Mannschaft_ will protect me now. I'm safe. Now I can relax. I can let go. I can… I can sleep," Erik thought. And then the world went black.

The next day was intense. For a short time Erik was aware of what was being said around him, but no matter what, he remained locked within his own world. He heard the nurses conversing and knew that apparently he should have woken by now. They were fearful that the shock of his injuries had sent him into a coma and he would not wake up, but Erik couldn't bring himself to leave the safe haven his mind had created. After a while, Erik simply stopped listening to the outside world and closed himself away. It was completely black here. There was nothing; nothing within this place existed in a material sense. It simply _existed_. It was all pure energy. And it was anything Erik wanted it to be.

Time moved differently in here. It wasn't all strict and defined. It was fluid and moved smoothly, sometimes pausing and stretching. A minute could be decades or simply the blink of an eye. It was all to the perception of the mind. And it was way more confusing than anything Erik had ever encountered so he simply decided not to dwell upon it. It was much easier if he stopped asking how and simply _was._ And it was easier. All the pain and suffering had drained out of his thoughts. Now, all those feeling from before seemed separate from himself, as if he knew they were there and could be felt, but he was free of all the complexity of emotion. They held no meaning within the deep recesses of his mind where he now dwelled.

Erik had simply existed within his own subconscious for what seemed eternity, when it happened. It had been unexpected and paralyzed Erik at its abruptness. There was all black, nothing but Erik, his pure… essence (?) and then the next moment it was as if a bomb had dropped. His subconscious simply… exploded. Light, color sound, texture, taste, and smell formed and expanded outwards exponentially within a second. It was blinding in its intensity, and Erik's mind reeled trying to catch back up. His ears rung, his vision had black spots, vibrant colors danced before his eyes, and his nose was assaulted by every kind of scent. All of his senses were activated and it was like experiencing everything at the exact same time. Then, as soon as it had come, everything was gone. All the lights and sensations imploded back to one central spot and simply disappeared, vanished, leaving Erik alone in his subconscious as before.

Except he wasn't alone. In the center where everything had coalesced into one point was something. There was the sense that someone else was here. And that person was like a vacuum, pulling Erik's presence towards its own. It was like gravity: an force he couldn't fight that just kept pulling him forward. And Erik didn't want to fight. It was insane, but he felt as if he knew the mind next this, as if some part of him had always known and the rest of him was just now figuring something important out. Something huge and life-changing. And the pull just kept going, moving him and the presence closer together until their minds met, and it was like Erik was being pulled into the other mind. A white light shone brightly the second their two minds met and Erik felt like he was falling.

I know you… he thought.

And then he was back in his body. And above him was a boy with tawny brown hair and the bluest eyes Erik had ever seen. As he looked up at the boy, all he could think was, "Beautiful." And then their minds met and it was unlike anything Erik had ever experienced, but it was so familiar at the same time. . Erik reached out, pulling the boy closer, pulling both the boys hands to his chest and resting his palm against the boy's cheek, making him face him and stared into those blue eyes. He had never felt this sort of connection with another person, ever. He had never touched the mind of another person. Except the presence. This boy. This boy was the presence, the one who had saved him from the pain and returned him to his body. This boy was the one who had cried for him. The one who had made him hold on, made him keep living He was… Erik felt as if he was about to discover something huge, something so important that once he knew it his life would never be the same…

And then the door to the infirmary burst open, breaking the moment. Erik wanted to scream in frustration. He knew he had been on the brink of some discovery and now it was fleeing his mind. He stared at the boy hard, willing himself to remember whatever it was that he was so close to discovering. But it was gone, just out of his grasp and getting farther and farther away each moment. The boy's eyes were staring at the door in something like guilt. Erik couldn't figure out why. Why was the boy feeling guilty about being here? He had saved Erik's life and had brought him back to the world. Erik obviously meant something to him, and though he didn't know what, he knew the boy was something important to him. He had as much right to be here as anyone else and nothing should make him feel guilt about being here. But he was, and as Erik watched, the boy started closing himself off to the world. Erik wanted to cry as within his mind he felt the boy's presence slip away from his own. He wanted to scream. The more the boy shut himself off and repressed Erik, the harder it became for Erik to hold the feeling of discover from before. It was just a faint sense at the very back of his mind. Finally, those blue eyes met his eyes again and Erik wanted to cry. They were completely shut off. It was like looking at steel; they were completely unmoving and had formed a barrier to keep everyone out. Including Erik. And he saw that this wasn't enough. He knew the boy was going to leave just as the other boy thought of it.

"Please don't go," Erik breathed, his eyes begging the boy to stay with him and finish whatever had just almost happened. But he saw the look in the boy's eyes at his words. He looked cornered. And was looking for an escape. So when the boy ripped away from Erik, Erik instinctively tried to grab him back. But it was too late. As soon as the contact broke, the boy shimmered out and disappeared, taking with him Erik's memory of the entire encounter.

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><p>Erik lay on the metal table, the cold steel feeling foreign, which was strange. All metal felt like an extension of his body. But at the moment, it felt as though there was a part of him that even metal couldn't fill. A part of him that had recently been discovered and whole and then was violently ripped out. And it hurt. A deep sense of emptiness and despair filled him. His outreached arms fell back to his side and he lay on the table, silently looking up at the ceiling, trying to recall what had just happened. He felt it was imperative he remember. What had happened was so monumental that until he remembered that gaping hole within him would never fill. But every time he tried, his heart would pang and his head hurt. He didn't notice he was crying until the tears hit the table beneath him. Then his whole body began shaking as he sobbed uncontrollably. He heard more than saw <em>Mannschaft<em> rush over to his side and felt him start wiping up his tears. The man was so gentle despite his size. His hands ran soothingly through his hair as he murmured softly to Erik to calm him. Slowly, the sobs subsided. Then the sharp intakes of air turned into hiccups and the tears subsided to a faint watering of his eyes. _Mannschaft_ sat through it all. He stopped speaking when Erik was almost completely composed and simply sat there silently, looking at Erik but not seeing him. Erik knew _Mannschaft_ had questions buzzing around in his head and that he needed to answer them, but he knew the man wouldn't push him till he was ready. And right now, all Erik wanted was to sit in silence. Tomorrow he'd talk to _Mannschaft_. Tomorrow he'd try to remember. But today, he would just lie here and let his body rest.

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><p><strong>End Note: Next chapter we learn about Ms. Anna's past and, coincidentally, <em>Mannschaft's.<em> So if you like those two, be kind and leave reviews. They make me write**

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><p><strong>My review rate for this fic is going down. Reviews are love! Please love me or just my characters!<strong>


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: So it took a while for this to get up. I'm very sorry about that. But I finally got the 5th review that I had been waiting for. Thank you Fireotaku18 for giving me my fifth review for last chapter, and thus this new chapter. I hope you enjoy. Also give thanks to this update to my heart, which time and time again proves it can still break. Also, I know I promised you more of Ms. Anna and _Mannschaft's_** **history, but I kinda liked where this ended. So that will be in the next Charles chapter. Oh and the question that the professor asks Charles and his answer came from Yahoo answers because I am writing this in a rush before mom can take the computer away. If it is wrong I'm sorry and if you want to fix it I shall repost this with the correct terminology. And I know this is a bit short, but it's because mom's rushing me. I'll update the next chapter as soon as I get 5 reviews for this chapter, be it a day or 4 months. Oh and yes, I will admit that Charles and Ms. Anna's relationship is completely rushed and bipolar, but blame my broken heart. It demanded love one moment and then it demanded angst the next. I'm sorry for the horribleness. Please enjoy nonetheless. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned X-Men: First Class, Charles and Erik would have had sex in the stripper bar when they got Angel. **

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><p><p>

_Recap: And then Charles ripped his hand out of Erik's, the other boy trying to grab him back, but it was futile. As soon as the physical contact was broken, Charles felt as if he had been thrown into cold water and when he resurfaced he was back in his body, in the room he had been having his lessons in before. He was drenched and a worried looking Ms. Anna looked down at him._

_That's when the tears came._

Charles didn't know how long he cried for. All he could focus on was the sudden feeling of emptiness that was eating away at him. It felt as if someone had reached into his chest and yanked out his heart. Finally the sobs subsided and he felt a warm embrace.

"Oh Charles. Charles, darling, I'm so sorry. I'm so incredibly sorry…" Ms. Anna whispered in his ear, holding him close and rubbing soothing circles on his back. She was rocking they back and forth, whispering apologies as she held him comfortingly in her arms. Charles couldn't seem to do anything. This was the most tender, nurturing thing he had ever experienced. Ms. Anna had done a complete change of character and it was leaving Charles slightly confused. But, held within her arms, he almost felt… loved. The thought brought him out of his thoughts and, though inexperienced in displays of affection, he instinctively cuddled closer, closing his eyes as he hugged her back. He felt a wave of maternal love wash over him. It was the first thing he had ever felt from her mind before and the knowledge that she loved him so had him smiling and looking up at her. Two pairs of eyes the exact same shade of blue met, both warm and shining.

"Thank you," Charles whispered softly. And that was all they needed to say. Charles rested his head against her and she pulled him close, holding him in a way he had never been held before: the way his mother should have held him but never could. She held him the way a mother would her son after a nightmare. It was so warm and soothing and loving. She sung in his ear lullabies he had never heard before in several languages. Though he couldn't understand what they were saying, it didn't matter. Because this was so much more than he could have asked for. And for the first time in his fourteen years of life, Charles felt loved.

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><p><p>

"Charles darling, wake up," someone whispered. Slowly, Charles opened his eyes and found two gorgeous blue eyes staring down at him. A smile greeted his sleep-filled eyes and Charles couldn't help but to smile back. "It's time to wake up, darling," Ms. Anna said.

"Mmmmmm… What time is it?" Charles asked, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Five o'clock. Time to get ready for university," she said.

Bolting upright, Charles gaped at her in shock. "Five o'clock?" he gasped. Looking at his clock, he realized it was indeed five in the morning, meaning he had slept throughout the entire night without a single dream of Erik for the first time in two years. Blushing, Charles recalled that he had fallen asleep in Ms. Anna's arms in the study. Which, now that he thought about it, he wasn't in at the moment. He had somehow gotten in his room during the night. Just as he thought of asking Ms. Anna how she had gotten him here, he remembered the time and that he had to get ready and get across town for his class in an hour. He sprung out of bed and ran to his dresser, starting to remove his shirt—darn, he had slept in his clothes from the day before and boy was mother going to be furious when she saw how wrinkled they had gotten—before he remembered Ms. Anna's presence. Of course, he knew he shouldn't be too embarrassed after last night and how he had acted so clingy, but he was still a boy and this woman was in his room. Blushing, Charles didn't know what to say. But then a wave of calm washed over him. "Um…" he muttered, unintelligently.

"I'll leave you to get dressed," she said. She got up and was about to leave when she turned back to him, her face tender but her eyes worried. "Charles… we have to talk later," she said, pausing, "… about you being a telepath." And with that she turned away and walked out.

Charles' mind was in a haze all of his class. He knew he should be paying attention, but his mind was so absorbed with Ms. Anna's words.

"Mr. Xavier," the professor said again. The boy next to Charles tapped him on the shoulder. "Mr. Xavier. Thank you for gracing us with your attention."

"I'm sorry Professor," Charles said, his voice holding an edge. He was rather annoyed at being interrupted from his thoughts. "Would you please repeat the question," he bit out, glaring.

Slightly unnerved at the glare he was getting—who wouldn't when those eyes as bright and deadly as glacial ice were staring daggers at him—the professor continued carefully. "Describe what can happen to an electron in a biological molecule such as chlorophyll when a photon of light energy is absorbed."

"First of all the electron comes from hydrogen from the splitting of water which takes place in the light reaction. It will get excited and boost up to a primary acceptor, then fall down the electron transport chain releasing energy for ATP synthesis," Charles answered angrily, breaking his rule and snatching the answer from the man's mind. The look on his professor's face was priceless. And he could tell by the angry thoughts the man was practically screaming that he would leave Charles alone for the rest of the class. Rather proud of himself at the moment, Charles let off a small smile before they were ripped away again.

_We need to talk about you being a telepath._

How the bloody hell did Ms. Anna know what he was. He sure as hell didn't know until that night with Raven and was quite certain that he had never shown signs of being a mutant. But he could be wrong. Except that little voice in the back of his head was screaming at him, trying to piece something together for him but he couldn't seem to grasp it.

Wasn't it curious that Ms. Anna never projected her thoughts? Charles had known the woman for months, yet no matter what, her thoughts never threw themselves at him like that of other people. And that one time he had tried to read her mind. He was getting closer, he could feel it. But as he tried to grab it, it felt as if someone had places a block in his mind, preventing him from recalling exactly what had happened.

"Charles," Emma said, lightly tapping him on the shoulder. "Class is over." Looking around, Charles did in fact see that everyone else was getting out of their seat and packing up their things. Looking at the board in fright, he finally realized that he had missed the entire lesson during his pondering. "Don't worry," Emma said, drawing Charles' attention back to her, "I took an extra copy of the note for you."

Baffled, Charles couldn't help but give the girl the most dazzling smile he could manage. "Thank you so much Emma. You're a life saver."

"No problem," Emma said, blushing and looking down. She pushed a lock of her golden blonde hair back and chewed on her lip. Charles extended his arm to her and she took it after a moment, both of them walking out of the classroom. It took several minutes, but finally she said what was on her mind. "I couldn't help but notice you were completely out of it all day. Are you alright?"

Charles smiled at the compassion this girl had. "Yes. Just… a lot on my mind right now."

Emma stayed silent for a moment. "Any way I can help?" she asked hesitantly.

And then the idea hit him. "You know what," he said, "I think you might." The girl looked at him questioningly and he took the moment of confusion and dived into her mind.

He had only done a couple times before, going past the surface level of people's minds into that which lied beneath the surface. It took quite a bit of his strength and was exhausting. But he had to figure this out. So he was going to borrow Emma's mind. Pulling up his own thoughts, he planted the memories into the sections of Emma's mind that could analyze the data and solve his puzzle. He listened to every single thought that popped up. Finally, all the data processed and her mind drew to a conclusion. Charles literally jerked himself away from her, both mentally and physically. No, he thought. It couldn't be. But there was no other option.

A wave of exhaustion washed over him, sending him straight to the ground. His hearing got all fuzzy and he saw black dots appear in his vision. But he saw the flame of red hair and saw blue eyes the exact shade of his stare into his own. Then he sat and watched as Ms. Anna got up and moved over to Emma. She grasped the girl's shoulders and stared into her eyes. She started saying something, but Charles couldn't hear it. When he blacked out, Emma was walking away and Ms. Anna was staring down at him.

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><p><p>

"You're a telepath?" Charles practically screamed as he walked into the study. Ms. Anna looked up from the book she had been reading and regarded him with calm eyes. He could see the strain and his heart panged at causing this woman any pain, but at the moment his mind was too hazed with anger to stop. "You're a telepath like me and you never told me? How could you?" he breathed out at last, all the hurt and feelings of betrayal evident in his eyes. He saw her flinch at his glance and saw how her muscles tightened as she fought from getting up and hugging him. Sighing, Ms. Anna set the book down and then gestured him to the seat opposite her. Slowly walking over to the chair, Charles sat down, never once breaking eye contact.

Ms. Anna looked into his eyes for a few moments before nodding. "Yes Charles, I am a telepath."

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" he shouted.

Ms. Anna was silent for several moments, simply staring at him. He fidgeted under her gaze, but refused to look away. He would stay strong. He wanted answers. "I didn't think it was important," she said cooly.

"Didn't think it was important?" he asked in disbelief. "How could this not be important? I've spent the past year with you being here, not knowing what you were. I've spent a year of my life wondering what was happening, what I was doing. I had to learn this whole controlling your powers thing on my own. It's a wonder I haven't hurt any- … Emma. Oh God, Emma!" Charles exclaimed, leaping up.

A calm wave passed over him. _She's fine. Sit down._ Shocked at hearing Ms. Anna's voice in his head, Charles sat down without another word. _You pulled out of her mind so suddenly she would have had permanent damage if left like that much longer. Don't worry, I fixed her. And I got rid of all the thoughts you had implanted in her mind. Very nice work by the way. I'm surprised you thought of that yourself. _"I made sure the driver got her home safely," she said aloud. "And I didn't think it was important to tell you, because I saw you were making progress yourself. I always think that learning through experience is the best way to learn, so I left you alone. Of course, I did give you some guidance here and there." Several moments flashed through Charles' mind, except these were Ms. Anna's memories so he saw the soft mental nudges she would give him. "But after what happened yesterday," Ms. Anna said, "I knew I couldn't leave you alone. I couldn't make you face this alone."

Charles looked at her then, "Face what alone?"

"Charles," she said sadly, pulling his hand into hers. "You formed a mind link."

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**Hahaha! Cliffie! Yes, leave your screams of protest in a lovely thing called a review. I'll update as soon as I get 5. **


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: So from this part in the story, I'm going to be making it somewhat AU. Because, if you know the story well, there's a huge gap in time between the beginning and when we see them next. One minute they're children and the next they're in college and killing people. So from now till that point, the story will consist of what is in my mind. I hope you read this before the story so that you do know this and proceed with caution. Thank you for reading this all who do. I hope you enjoy the story. Sorry for the long wait, but I didn't know if I should write these linking chapters or just skip to the next part in the movie, but I wanted to write them. I'm very sorry if I lose some readers because of this choice, but all who remain loyal, thank you. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own X-Men: First Class or anything related to the X-Men story-verse. I do not own any characters but the ones I create.**

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><p>Erik landed with a light thud against the floor, panting heavily, crouched and ready to spring back into action at any moment. His skin was covered with a thick layer of sweat, his clothes, a thin white dress shirt unbuttoned and black dress pants, were soaked in a mixture of sweat, blood, and dirt. There were tears in them and his blood oozed out of several minor cuts littered along his body. His shoes were covered in dust and blood and he balanced on the balls of his feet.<p>

"Come now _Metallmanipulierer_," a soldier dressed in a pristine, pressed black suit called from 10 feet away. He wiped the blood off his katana with a white handkerchief. "Surely that's not all you ca

**Author's Notes: SOOOOO…. I know I promised this chapter when I got 5 reviews, but blame the fact I have no laptop anymore. So I wrote this and was going to update it as soon as I got the 5 reviews (which OMG was on the FIRST DAY OF ME POSTING!) but I couldn't get to the computer because my mother was being a meanie. So I'm typing this out. Also, I know someone didn't mean it, but it really hurt my feeling when they said they didn't care about my OCs. I know it's just your opinion, but I love my OCs and work really hard to make them loveable and to hear you say that really hurts. But I respect your opinion. Just bear with me writing about my OCs because some people actually like them, I actually like them, and they help me strengthen the bond between Charles and Erik. So anyways thanks, enjoy this chapter. Again, when I reach 5 reviews I'll update as soon as the computer becomes available. Thanks to lynxpanther for the fifth review btw! She got this chapter up.**

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><p>Erik awoke the next morning in his room. Loud shouting sounded through the thin walls from the hall outside. Startled, Erik tried to get up but even the slightest movement sent spasms of agony through his body. Resigning to the fact that he was in fact stuck in his bed, Erik strained his ears to hear. Pausing, Erik realized he knew those voices. <em>Mannschaft<em> and Shaw's voices were above "civilized talk" as Shaw put it, and were ranging on screaming. Well, more like Shaw was almost screaming. _Mannschaft_ was speaking as he normally did, but Erik could tell from the tenseness in his voice that he was even more infuriated by Shaw's presence than per usual.

"I'm telling you, he's not in any condition to train right now!" _Mannschaft_ growled out.

"And I'm telling you that I don't care if he's dying; he will get out there and show me he's worth my money. Now I'm ordering you to stand down." He heard Shaw take several steps forward before there was a loud thud and the wall groaned as a body hit it.

"If you take one more step towards that boy before he's healed, I will take him and we both will leave."

"You wouldn't dare," Shaw said fearfully.

"Watch me," _Mannschaft_ snarled. A shiver went down Erik's spine. He had never heard _Mannschaft_ speak with that tone. It made him want to curl up and hide.

The door opened and a fuming _Mannschaft_ stood in the doorway. A disgruntled Shaw stood against the wall, looking at him. "What about your precious Anna?" _Mannschaft's_ eyes widened for a spilt second. He froze in the doorway and just stood there, his eyes shocked. His shoulders locked as if restraining himself; he looked like he wanted to deck Shaw then and there but he was holding himself back. His eyes flashed murderously, but he remained still, his hand on the doorknob white from the pressure he was exerting on it. Shaw smirked at the sight and continued. "If you leave, who's to say she won't get into as freak accident? How long will she last once I'm no longer covering her tracks and the price on her head comes back? The only thing keeping those hunters off her back is my name, and if you leave she's no longer under my care!" The change was gradual, but Erik saw it because he had been watching_ Mannschaft_ so closely. As Shaw kept talking, _Mannschaft_ started to relax and a crazed smile grew on his face. Erik felt terror like never before; that look made him feel like _Mannschaft_ was going to kill him as slowly and painfully as possible. Slowly _Mannschaft_ turned back to Shaw and Erik saw the man visibly flinch as_ Mannschaft_ smiling face met his. Doubt and terror shone in his face.

"Then I guess I'll have to go save her won't I?" he said. It sounded so harmless, but undoubtedly there was some hidden threat in there for Shaw's mouth dropped open in shock and he backpedaled. Taking his opportunity, _Mannschaft_ closed the door. Then he just stood there, calming himself. Several tense minutes passed by before _Mannschaft_ turned back around. A light smile graced his face and Erik found his fears silly. _Mannschaft_ may be a very fearsome man, but he was still _Mannschaft_, the man that loved Erik like his own son and protected him from Shaw. In fact, hadn't he just threatened to leave with Erik hadn't he? Even though Shaw apparently had someone named Emma that was really important to _Mannschaft_. He had risked it to save Erik. "What trouble you cause_ Metallmanipulierer_," he said teasingly. Then his eyes grew serious and he switched to English for safety. In this place, only Erik, _Mannschaft_, and Shaw knew English so it risked less chance of eavesdropping. "Now _Metallmanipulierer_, me must discuss what happened the other day."

Erik had been dreading—yet unexplainably hoping—for this moment. He feared finding out something that his mind had found so horrid that it had repressed any recollection of it whatsoever, but a small part of him begged to know what was so life changing that the absence of the memory would leave such an empty hole in his heart. He knew _Mannschaft_ knew something he wasn't telling him, but the look _Mannschaft_ had given him yesterday when he woke in the infirmary had haunted his dreams last night. It had been a look of sheer panic and fear. But underneath there was a look of understanding and resignation. It was like _Mannschaft_ had found out Erik was going to die and there was nothing he could do about it. "I can't remember anything," Erik said finally.

"But do you really _want_ to remember?" _Mannschaft_ asked sadly.

This was it, Erik realized. His last chance out. _Mannschaft_ was giving him a way out and from the sound of it hoped he would take it. "Yes."

_Mannschaft_ let out a sad sigh. It sounded so old and broken. For once, _Mannschaft's_ face lost its youthful glow and he looked much older than any man he had ever seen. Even though _Mannschaft_ was only 27, the sadness in his eyes looked eons old. "Where do I begin?" he asked more to himself than Erik. "You mentioned a voice?"

"Yes," Erik said. "My conscious. It talks to me when I'm in trouble or am going to be. It's always correcting me and trying to steer me in the right direction. I generally ignore it, but when I do I always regret it. Like yesterday, for example."

_Mannschaft_ nodded his head. "And what if I told you that this voice is actually not a part of your subconscious? That it is, in fact, another person?"

"What… do you mean?" Erik asked.

"Your voice is actually a telepath who is connected to you through a telepathic connection called a mind link," _Mannschaft_ said somberly. "This telepath has created an unbreakable bond between your mind and his or hers. It is one of the strongest types of telepathic connections created and is extremely rare. The telepathic power needed to harness one mind and indefinitely bind it to another is immense This telepath would have to be at least a class three. But to harness your mind from Britain—you said the voice was British, right?—this telepath has to be a class four.

Erik was silent for a moment, taking it all in. "But… why me? Why is this person bonded to _me_?"

_Mannschaft's_ eyes looked so sad as he looked at Erik that he looked like he was going to cry. "Because Erik, you and this person are soul mates."

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><p><strong>OMG ANOTHER CLIFF HANGER! I'm coming to love them. Go ahead and scream at me in a lovely review :)<strong>

n do?" he asked tauntingly, his smooth, deep voice gentle and coaxing.

Taking a deep breath, Erik pulled the dagger out of its sheath attached to his hip and pounced. He smoothly landed a few feet away from the soldier and broke into a brisk sprint towards the other man who, upon seeing him advance, smiled and placed his handkerchief back in his pocket. He stood there, the hilt of his blade held loosely and the tip touching the ground, watching the young boy advancing upon him. His footsteps were sloppy with exhaustion and he was panting hard as he ran, dagger gripped tightly in his right. He saw the tensing of his right before the boy flung himself to the soldier's left and swiped at him with the blade.

Sidestepping easily, the soldier frowned at the other. His movements were sluggish and lacked control. He sheathed his sword and the boy's face twisted in anger as he landed. The man shook his head in disappointment and the boy's face fell, ashamed of his inability to meet his mentor's expectations. Walking over to him, the man reached his hand out and ruffled the young one's hair.

Looking up in surprise, Erik couldn't keep his surprise off his face when he saw the man down at him fondly. Day one and Erik had just failed his first lesson, but the man stood there, playfully ruffling his hair and looking at him proudly.

"Very good _Metallmanipulierer_," the man said, his deep voice light. He looked down at his student. His chocolate eyes twinkled in merriment as he looked down at his student, drenched from all the effort he had just exerted. The corner of his mouth was turned up in a smile, his cheek bleeding slightly from Erik's well-aimed swipe. Not many men could have landed a blow on him and on the very first day of their training, Erik had shown a promise he had not seen in years. He had skillfully applied all his past lessons at the training camps into this fight and the soldier couldn't help but smile at what the boy could be under his guidance.

Erik was so confused. "But I lost sir," he said, his head falling again, staring sadly at the soldier's shoes. He felt shame when the simple movement sent a wave of pain through him.

The soldier rolled his eyes, getting down and sitting next to the boy in agura. He used his fingers to pull the young boy's shin up to look at him. "But you fought valiantly," he said, pointing to the deep cut on his cheek. When he say the boy's skeptical look he added, "You mustn't be too hard on yourself _Mettallsaurferei_. It is but your first lesson. To land a blow on me at such an early stage is commendable. Do not worry yourself; it will take time to learn the art of combat. But I promise that as long as I am with you I shall teach you what I know."

"Thank you sir," Erik said with respect. He knew how skilled the man was at what he did and he knew that it was an honor to train under him. To get a compliment from such a master made him smile slightly.

The soldier openly smiled at the slight raise in the corners of the boy's mouth. Though it was feeble, the man knew any sort of reaction from the boy was marvelous. His smiled dimmed as he thought about what the boy would have to endure under Shaw's guidance. He wanted to protect the boy. He had grown fond of him, for reasons which he did not know. Perhaps it was because he had always wanted a son. But he vowed he would make it as bearable as possible for the boy. He could do that much for him. "Please, don't call me sir. It sounds too proper," he said, smiling at the boy.

Erik paused. "Then, what do I call you?" he asked quietly.

"Whatever you want, _Metallmanipulierer_," he said softly. No one actually knew his name, instead opting for one of the many names he had been given on the battlefield. And if he was honest, he couldn't remember it himself. The memories of his old life had long ago been buried in the bodies of his enemies and drown in the blood of innocents.

Erik paused for a moment, thinking about what the man was to him. He was a new beginning, a mentor in his future life. But _Lehrer_ seemed to common for this man. This man was strong and he was going to train Erik to be just as strong. They would become the strongest team the world had ever seen. He needed a name that accented his power. "How about _Mannschaft?" Erik asked hesitantly. _

The soldier thought about it for a moment. _Team_ he thought. Smiling at the intimacy this name held compared to all the many others, the soldier looked at Erik, feeling a wave of paternal affection wash over him. "Sound perfect,_ Metallmanipulierer."_

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><p><strong><em>So I know this chapter was super short and lacks Charles to it, but I wanted to focus on the bond that's going to form between these two. I created this character and I purposefully left the description of him vague just cause I wanted to leave some room for interpretation until later in the story. Anyways, next chapter's already half written and waiting to be posted. I will post when I get some reviews that make me want to post. <em>**


	8. Chapter 8

**WOW! SEVEN REVIEWS! Be proud of yourselves everyone! This is epic! Other than my first chapter that last chapter had the most reviews! Congrats! Again, thanks to lynx-panther for the fifth review. She got this chapter up… again. Also, please don't be mad at my theory of how telepathy works. This isn't an exact science and I've only done like 20 minutes of research on it. This is just my crazy mind trying to rationalize the epicness of this mutation.**

****Disclaimer: If I owned X-Men: First Class, Charles and Erik would have had sex in the stripper bar when they got Angel. ****

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><p><em>Recap: "But after what happened yesterday," Ms. Anna said, "I knew I couldn't leave you alone. I couldn't make you face this alone."<em>

_Charles looked at her then, "Face what alone?"_

_"Charles," she said sadly, pulling his hand into hers. "You formed a mind link."_

"What?" Charles asked, his expression the epitome of confusion.

"Let's start at the beginning," Ms. Anna said wearily. "Do you know how telepathy works?" Charles shook his head in the negative and Ms. Anna pause for a second, trying to think of the best way to explain. Finally she seemed to settle on something. "Bear in mind that there's no exact proven science in this. All of this is simply my theory. Telepathy is a mutation. It is formed while an embryo is in the womb. During development the embryo is flooded with brain waves constantly. This exposure causes a shift in the child's developing mind. When the child is born they are able to control the brain waves they produce on an exponential scale. By doing this, the child develops differently from others. They have an unexplainable affinity to people. They can sense the minds of others. Then they can control their minds to match the wave output of another."

"What do you mean?" Charles asked.

Ms. Anna paused. "How would explain it when you link to another mind?" she asked.

"It's like I'm diving into their mind, becoming a part of them. From there I can access their thoughts and bend them. But it's exhausting. Is that normal?" Charles asked, looking at her inquisitively.

Ms. Anna nodded. "Your mind is working in a way it isn't used to. It will get easier with practice."

"But I still don't get it," Charles said.

"Perhaps it would be better if I showed you," she said, reaching to Charles' head and placing two fingers on each of his temples. He nodded and shuddered as _something_ happened. _Do you feel that? _Ms. Anna's voice asked. _My mind is sending delta waves into yours, making it return to a state like that of deep sleep. It allows my mind to break into yours. _Charles tried to block his mind from her, but couldn't seem to do it. Another shudder ran through him. _Then a medley of theta and alpha waves make you relax. Next some beta waves to balance your mind out and promote a quick connection. Your mind then lets the foreign mind start to produce its own brain waves and your mind synchronizes with theirs. _Charles relaxed, still feeling weird at having someone else in his mind instead of the other way around, but he was finding this entire situation very interesting. It was very eye opening and he was intrigued at having the process he'd done a million times broken down and dissected for him to understand. _Then bursts of alpha waves act as a search navigator and create those visualizations you see. Then to pull out of the mind,_ she said, _you create a burst of beta waves to kick start the mind. _Charles felt a jolt as Ms. Anna pulled out of his mind and broke contact, both mentally and physically. "That's the mechanics of telepathy. Unfortunately," she said sadly, "anyone other than another telepath can't understand this no matter how many times I explain it. So this is all just theory."

"This is brilliant," Charles exclaimed. "I would have never thought this could be explained so simply." Ms. Anna smiled shyly. "So now that I understand telepathy," he said, "can you explain what a mind link is?" Ms. Anna's face fell, the smile fading. Charles felt guilty for having asked it. Ms. Anna let out a sad sigh. It sounded so old and broken. Her face lost its youthful glow and she looked much older than any other woman he'd ever seen. Even though Ms. Anna was only 25, the sadness in her eyes looked eons old. "Ms. Anna, what's wrong?" he asked, placing a hand on her knee in concern.

She looked him in the eyes, putting on a weak smile that didn't reach her eyes. "I'll tell you some other time," she said. "But as for your question, I suppose it's only fair I let you know what you're in. A mind link is a telepathic bond so rare and powerful, there have been few in history that we know of. I only know of three cases. In essence, it is a bond created during childhood between two individuals, both mutants. It is one of the most advanced forms of telepathy and I haven't been able to figure out the mechanics of it. But I know that the power it takes to do this is immense. You know how exhausted and drained you feel after connecting your mind to another person's?" She asked. Charles nodded his head in the affirmative. "Well this is so much more. We're talking linking two minds that could be across the world from one another and binding them. Except unlike other bonds, this bond is indefinite. There is not a recorded way on how to break these bonds. The people bound are telepathically linked together for the span of their entire lives."

Charles was silent, letting all the information sink in. His brows furrowed together in concentration as he thought. "But Ms. Anna, the power needed to seal this bond and continuously hold it, wouldn't that kill the people involved?"

"The telepath who does it is in the infancy of their mutation. Their powers are manifesting and they hold no training. The raw power produced has no outlet, nothing controlling it from running rampant. For telepaths this can manifest in many ways. The way yours did was it spread around you. And it searched. It searched for somewhere to release itself. It built up so much that it reached this other person in your bond and it stuck to he or she. The power you possess is beyond that of almost any telepath I've ever met before. I would guess you were a class four telepath. Now this power latched onto the other person and created a tie between the both of your minds." She paused, biting her lip as she debated whether to tell him or not.

Charles could feel she was holding something back. "Please Ms. Anna. I need to know everything I can about this. I need to know what it is I'm facing."

Ms. Anna struggled with herself for another moment before looking resigned. "You were right in assuming that the power needed to create and upkeep this bond would kill the two. But that's only if you try to do this with a random person. See, the reason it's so hard to link two minds is that every mind is so complex and different from one another. It takes so much energy to merge two dissimilar conscious minds together. The only reason this bond can be formed is because…-"

"Is because what, Ms. Anna?"

"Is because you and the other person are soul mates," she breathed out.

Charles' jaw dropped. "Pardon me," he said defensively, "but what are you suggesting?"

"I'm suggesting," Ms. Anna said, placing her hand on top of Charles' comfortingly, "that you and the person you are bound to are meant to be. I know it's a lot to take in, Charles, but it's the truth. You and this person's minds are so similar to one another that your mutation was able to latch onto his or her's mind and then join your mind to his or hers with little effort. The reason you won't die from holding this link is because your minds are so alike that the energy required to keep them bound is minimal. Only under great stress do your minds differ, which is why during your dreams you wake feeling more tired than you did falling asleep. I assume the person you are bound to undergoes great amounts of strain regularly. That's why you lapse in your consciousness when something happens. The stimulation on the other end pulls you through the bond to witness what is disturbing the balance in your bond." Charles looked at her uncertainly. "I know it's a lot to take in Charles, but I want you to know I'm telling you as much as I know. I'm telling you this because I know what you're going through. It's scary and confusing. And it's frustrating as hell to be told that there's only one person you're destined to spend your whole life with, but I need to tell you that it's so much better when you accept it. It's so much better to accept that this person is your other half and that you need them to be in your life for you to be happy. Because you do, Charles. Whoever it is that you're bound to, now that you know what it's like to be with someone who is so like you, so similar to you in every way, nothing will ever compare. And I'm here to tell you that I'll do everything in my power to bring you two together. Whatever it takes, I'm here for you," she said, holding his hand and staring at him sincerely.

Charles felt unnerved as those blue eyes, the same hue as his own, stared at him with complete understanding and sorrow. He wanted to be angry, to scream and rage at Ms. Anna for telling him this, for making him realize with every word she said that it was all true. Charles couldn't imagine being with someone else, not after all he had been through with Erik. It felt so completely wrong and made his stomach knot. Then something came back to him. "You said you knew of only three cases of this happening," he said, leaning forward. "You're one of them aren't you?" He saw as Ms. Anna tried to close herself off. He leapt into her mind with great difficulty as she tried to push him out. _You're like me, aren't you? You've been tied to someone else like me, _he pressed. And then images flashed before his eyes, Ms. Anna's whole story playing out before him like a movie and he watched them. Sometime while he was watching her past, Ms. Anna had stopped fighting him and simply sat at the corner of her mind, curling in on herself while building walls to keep him away. Charles didn't pay any attention to them as he watched Ms. Anna's life of struggling and defeat. He watched as she faced something like what he did, watched her as she found her other person. Watched her fall in love, get married, and have a child. And then the war came. Ms. Anna's child was killed before her, her beloved surrendering himself in exchange for her safety. He felt all her pain as her soul mate was taken away from her. Then he watched sadly as she picked herself back up from all the rubble and devoted her life to solving the mystery of telepathy, dedicating her time to helping people like her not follow her into despair. He didn't know he  
>was crying until the end. Only then did he notice how quiet Ms. Anna's mind was. He couldn't seem to feel her presence anywhere. He felt the barrier she had built and slowly, carefully deconstructed it, pulling them both out of her subconscious. He opened his eyes to see her looking at him, tears openly flowing from her eyes. He took her in his arms and held her close, hugging her. The woman before him had faced so much in her short life and had never been able to lean on anyone, to let anyone support her since her husband had been wrenched away from her. <em>Shaw<em>, the thought murderously. That was the name of the man that had taken her Michael away. He felt murderous rage wash through him as he recalled the young man's face. How he wished he could pummel the man. Then a shiver ran down his spine. He'd seen that man before. Wasn't that Erik's Shaw. And oh god, Michael—Anna's Michael. He'd seen that face before. And those eyes, he'd know those eyes anywhere. He'd seen them enough times in his dreams. Though they had changed slightly over the years, hardened, they were undoubtedly the eyes of-

"Ms. Anna," he croaked out, his throat dry suddenly. "I know where Michael is." He felt Ms. Anna freeze in his arms. She pulled away slowly and he saw that her eyes were hard. "I know where your Michael is," he repeated.

She pursed her lips. "How do you know?"

"Because he's with my soul mate."

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**Haha! I know that's not much of a cliff hanger and it's pretty obvious who Ms. Anna's soul mate is, I love the end. What will Charles and Ms. Anna do now? Reviews are love and once I get 5 pieces of love, I'll update. Till then!**


	9. Chapter 9: OPINIONS NEEDED!

**Ok everyone, I'm still waiting for the fifth review of the next chapter, but I figured I should ask before I start writing the next chapter. I have two different ideas for where this story can go. First, it can start to get really AU where from now on the story just goes where I want it. Or, it can get somewhat AU, and unlike the other, I manipulate it back to the direction of how the movie went. Personally I like either option, I like the first for the freedom but I like the ideas that I'm getting with the second. So I decided I'd ask you. I can't guarentee that what you say will be what I pick, but it will definately be taken into consideration. SO... review this chapter with your opinion.**

**Who wants this to be completely AU from here on out?**

**Who wants this to be slightly AU but still follow the story line?**

**Ohhh! AAAAAAAAANNNNNDDDDD while I'm at it I might as well ask. If you pick option two, who's for me taking out the beach divorce scene? I personally have a marvellous idea to keep that still in the story but to tweak it, but I also have an equally spectacular idea of how to end this without that scene and make it beautiful and fluffy and adorable. **

**So beach divorce or not? **

**Thanks for reading and I hope to hear your opinions!**


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